


matchmaker, matchmaker

by hellabaloo



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Bad Matchmaking, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-17 06:49:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13071405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hellabaloo/pseuds/hellabaloo
Summary: Three times Pique tried to set Neymar up on a date, and one time he didn’t have to.





	matchmaker, matchmaker

**Author's Note:**

  * For [neyvenger (jjjat3am)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jjjat3am/gifts).



> Well, this was supposed to be a treat for Last Minute Sub 2016 so it's only a year and change late XD I started writing this before Neymar left Barcelona, so this is no longer accurate, like, _at all_ (even less than usual for football rpf), but! Julija, I hope you enjoy your very late little treat :)

 

**1\. Lionel Messi**

Gerard watched Neymar shuffle into the locker room at the Ciutat Esportiva and wave good morning to Leo and Masche before heading to his own locker. Between pulling on his training pants and lacing up his boots, he caught Neymar glancing over at Leo and Masche on three separate occasions, trying to pretend he wasn’t actually interested in what they were laughing about on Masche’s phone. 

And suddenly, Gerard had the most perfect idea. 

Neymar clearly liked Leo (like _liked_ him, liked him, it was totally obvious to Gerard’s eyes) but it was too much like hero worship. Sure, Leo’s was a great footballer, but Gerard needed to show Neymar what a normal guy he was—like only someone that had grown up with Leo and smelling his dirty socks and dealing with his odd habits forever. And maybe nudge them into getting together. 

Really, Gerard was looking out for the team’s chemistry. If Neymar and Leo were happy, they’d score more goals. If they scored more goals, they’d totally win more games. They’d probably win the treble again and the board should name something after Gerard in gratitude. 

Beginning to make his plans, Gerard completely failed to notice Rafinha adjusting Neymar’s heart-rate monitor, Neymar’s hands resting comfortably on the bared skin of Rafinha’s hips.

 

**2\. Philippe Coutinho**

Okay. 

So. 

Maybe Gerard had miscalculated with Leo, but that didn’t change the fact that Neymar still clearly needed someone to help spice up his love life. But now, Gerard’s shins were bruised from where Leo had kicked him, repeatedly, sneakily throughout training using the rondo and drills as an excuse, after out of the supply closet (frustratingly, _totally_ unaffected by being trapped with Neymar in a dark, enclosed space, like they had done anything other than text and laugh about stupid opinions on twitter) and Gerard didn’t know what his next move was.

Clearly, he had messed up not making sure they didn’t have their phones with them before locking them in that empty supply closet, but maybe Leo and Neymar were better as just friends if they couldn’t be persuaded to make out in a dark room. So if Leo wasn’t the right person, Gerard would just have to find someone else. Between drills and half listening to the míster’s instructions, he ran through the list of his teammates that could be set up with Neymar. 

Marc (the German, not Bartra)? He did have a great smile and he and Neymar seemed to enjoy each other’s company, but there was something that made Gerard hesitate. Maybe it was that Marc was just so blond.

Rafinha? Nah, he and Neymar were just good friends that liked to spend all their time together. You couldn’t date someone and give them a nickname like princessa. Only friends did something like that.

Man, why were all of his teammates already in relationships?

What he really needed was someone to bounce ideas off of. Except he’d usually ask Leo, who didn’t seem like he’d be talking to him anytime soon. And then, like a ball to the head, Gerard had a brilliant idea. 

He needed to call Dani.

“Dani, hombre, how are liking Torino? Asked to throw any matches yet?”

“Fuck off Geri, that’s, like, ancient history man. But, yeah! Everyone’s been great!” Dani said and Gerard smiled—he could hear Dani’s crazy eyes and wide smile through the phone. “Although, they’re very,” Dani started and paused. “Very set in their ways.”

“You dealt with Barcelona and its entorno. You’ll do fine. Good crazy in the house, right?”

Dani laughed and Gerard could picture him throwing his head back and laughing with his whole body like he always did. It made him smile.

“Hey, so, I was calling about Ney,” Gerard said. 

There was a low whistle across the line, followed by a deep sigh. “Shit. What’s he done now?”

“No, no, nothing bad,” Gerard said, shaking his head. “Well, you probably already knew about the dye-job. No, I just wanted to know about his friends on the Brazil national team. Like who he hangs out with. Who’s also single. Like that baby-face who plays for Liverpool,” he said.

“Which one?” Dani asked.

“Dani.” Gerard did not whine. (He might have whined.)

“Geri don’t try to set Neymar up on a date with Philippe,” Dani said. 

Gerard spluttered, trying to think of a way he could spin this. “Who said anything about that. I’m just curious, man!”

Dani sighed again, clearly not buying what Gerard was trying to sell. “Leo already texted me about you locking them in a closet together. I know you can be more subtle than that.”

“I was working with limited resources, okay?”

Dani made a clearly disbelieving noise. “But listen, you don’t need to set up Ney. He’s already—shit I gotta go, but I’m serious. You don’t need to set Ney up,” Dani said and promptly hung up on Gerard.

Well, there went _that_ idea.

 

**3\. Gerard Pique**

Gerard was rapidly running out of options. Setting up Neymar with Leo failed miserably. Dani shot down his idea to set Neymar up with Philippe Coutinho before it ever really materialized. What was he supposed to do now? Neymar’s happiness was in his hands and he was drawing a total blank. 

At least Leo had started to talk to him again.

“Do you think Neymar would go out with me?”

“No.”

Leo didn’t even both looking up from his phone. Gerard still pouted at him. The last time Leo could successfully resist his pout was when they were fifteen. If only Leo would look at him and feel the full force of his puppy-dog eyes. 

“What? Why not?”

“Geri—”

“I’m pretty enough, aren’t I?” Gerard ran his hand through this hair and leaned the bank of lockers. Leo still wasn’t looking at him. He was missing the model face he was pulling, his lips slightly parted and pouted. Gerard had used the it in ad campaign and the photographer kept yelling something in Italian at him and sounded pleased. 

“Sure, but I don’t think you’re exactly Neymar’s type.”

“What do you mean? I’m everyone’s type. The internet tells me so.”

“I’m not sure Shakira would appreciate you dating Neymar.” Leo finally looked away from his phone to make sure Gerard saw him roll his eyes. 

“Oh. Right,” Gerard said, shoulders slumping. “Probably not. Damnit, but then who am I supposed to set Neymar up with?” He rubbed at his beard, absentmindedly thinking he needed to trim it soon. “Maybe Shak would be okay with an open relationship,” he said, thinking out loud.

Leo had the audacity to laugh in his face. “Geri. Neymar doesn’t need any help finding a date.”

“What are you talking about, of course he does. He’s always showing up to team family events alone.” 

“Well, how about you ask him tomorrow if he even wants your help,” Leo said, stashing his phone in his locker and tightening the laces on his boots. He walked towards the exit that’d take him to the training field before turning, and threw Gerard a look over his shoulder that Gerard had come to associate with Leo handing a defender’s ass to him. “I mean, we still don’t know why Shakira even likes you,” he said and jogged up the stairs, giggling.

Gerard squawked and ran after Leo, his boots still half-undone, yelling, “Hey! I’m a total catch!”

 

**Rafinha Alcântara**

Leo was, to Gerard’s ego’s dismay, probably right about asking Neymar if he even wanted help sorting out his love life. He loitered around Neymar’s locker the next morning before training, passing the time by arguing loudly with Busi and Luis and basically anyone else who had an opinion he thought was stupid. By the time Neymar had finally showed up, a lot of the team had (in an somewhat characteristic stroke of luck for Gerard) already filed out to the practice field. 

They dapped in greeting and Gerard fiddled with his phone while Neymar changed out of his jeans and into his training kit. While he was lacing up his boots, Gerard figured it was now or never.

“So,” he started. “Neymar.” Gerard tried for casual and was pretty sure he was failing. Miserably. “You’re, like, always. Um—”

“I’m always what?” Neymar asked with a laugh, looking up from his boot.

Gerard decided he couldn’t be coy about this anymore.

“You’re always showing up to team events and dinners and shit alone. But it’s okay, I’m here to help. This is what bros are for. I want to help.”

“What?” Neymar, frozen, his foot halfway into his boot, stared at Gerard with his mouth hanging open. 

“I want to help set you up with someone! Putting you out there! On like a date!” Gerard said, and then, in a much lower voice admitted, “I mean, it didn’t really work with Leo but—”

“That was you?” Neymar sounded, well, somewhere between shocked and outraged. Gerard was starting to feel like wheels were coming off of this ride, but he couldn’t stop his mouth.

“And then I tried to set up something with Philippe Coutinho, but Dani wouldn’t help me—”

“I must be dreaming.” Neymar was dragging his hands down his face. 

“And Shak laughed at me for suggesting an open relationship so we could include you. Still not sure why, to be honest—”

“Geri, stop,” Neymar said, squishing Gerard’s cheeks together. “What. The. Fuck.” He emphasized each word with a little slap. 

“I just want you to be happy,” Gerard tried to say, but with his mouth all screwed up and his lips puckered, it didn’t come out quite right. 

“Hey guys,” Rafinha said, breathless, jogging into the room and skidding to a stop in front of his locker. He threw it open and whipped off his shirt 

“Oh God, thank you,” Neymar said, his eyes rolling towards the ceiling and his hands coming together in benediction. “Rafinha, come here.”

“Sure. What’s up. Although I thought I was late—”

Neymar cut Rafinha off by kissing him soundly, one hand sliding behind Rafinha’s neck and the other at his waist. He dipped Rafinha a little bit. They looked like the cover of a romance novel, with Rafinha’s shirt missing and his hand fisted in Neymar’s. Gerard also noticed the moment when Neymar slipped Rafinha some tongue, and that was an image he could have lived without. 

Neymar gave Rafinha one final peck and returned him to his previous, standing position. 

“Wow. Okay. Good morning to you too,” Rafinha said, blinking his eyes like he was trying to put the world back in focus. 

Neymar turned to Gerard. “We gotta talk about you locking me in a closet with Leo, because. Dude. Really? But no, I do not need your help finding a date.” He gave Gerard a little shove and practically skipped out to practice.

Okay.

Maybe Gerard could admit he’d been wrong. Given the dopey, lovestruck look _still_ on Rafinha’s face, Neymar didn’t need any help finding a date.

 

.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Find me [on tumblr!](https://historiograph.tumblr.com)


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